


If Days were Centuries

by QuinnMontgomery



Category: Captain America (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016), Irish Mythology, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Kidnapping, Multi, Reader-Insert, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12673569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinnMontgomery/pseuds/QuinnMontgomery
Summary: What if a female druid was kidnapped by a Fey Prince and kept captive for almost 3000 years? When she was finally free and the Fey Prince comes to kidnap her again, two super soldiers protect her. Can these three who are lost in a time not their own find their places in this time?





	1. Freedom

“Áilleacht Dorcha, Ní mór duit ach do ghéilleadh.” (Dark Beauty, I need your surrender.) The long silken fingers of the Fey prince stroked her face down to her chin, lifting her face to his with two fingers. His golden voice soft and reassuring as if she were a simple-minded child. “Mo grá…” (My love)

“Níl, níl mo ghrá agam.” (No, I am not your love.) Her deep rich voice snapped harshly as her bright green eyes bore into his sky blue orbs. “Nuair a ardóidh an ghrian, táim saor in aisce.” (When the sun rises, I am free.) Her lush lips curled into a smile as she thought of her true loves.

The Fey snarled jealously as he pulled her into a deep kiss, only to pull back as her teeth bit his lower lip. “Ní chríochnóidh sé anseo, déanfaidh mé mianach duit.” (It will not end here, I will make you mine.) Spitting the blood on the floor, he moved to kiss her again as the first rays of the sun inched over the midnight sky.

“Táim saor!” (I am free.) She cried out as she vanished from the room.

28 days in the room of a Fey prince in the Hollow Hills…what would she be returning to. For each day with the Fey is 100 years on the Earth. The slim fingers of doubt crept over her, making her fear her freedom. No, she was finally free of the Fey prince who kidnapped her. No matter the condition of the Earth, she would be alright. She was a druid, a high priestess of the Tuatha. She felt her feet touch the soil of home, Éireann (Ireland). Bending down, she stroked the soft emerald grass beneath her bare feet.

“Tá mé sa bhaile.” (I am home.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have rewritten the three chapters that I have already posted as I didn't like having to go to the bottom to translate the Gaelic. Now translations are in ().


	2. First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting between our super soldiers and druid.

“I never thought we would be in Ireland.” Steve looked over at his friend.

“Well, we did talk about going back to visit the ‘Old country’ when we were kids,” Bucky replied as he looked at the Cliffs of Moher. “Want to explain to me, why we are hiding in a tour group?”

“Well, would you look for us here?” Steve asked as sketched the scenery.

“No,” Bucky looked back at the tourists that flocked like sheep over the grounds. “So do you have an end game, punk?”

“Working on it, jerk.” Looking up from his sketch, Steve froze. Bucky instantly went on alert, turning to follow his friend’s line of sight. Instead of an attacker, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her dark auburn hair fell around her thighs as the wind played in it. She was tiny with a slim, fragile figure. Bucky figured she was about 5 foot tall. He couldn’t see her eye colour, but her skin was milk white. She wore a simple knee-length skirt and woollen shawl as if she needed no gilded frame for her appearance. A soft pink tinted her cheeks as she spoke to their tour guide. The guide took the large wicker basket from her with a tip of his cap and she turned away heading back towards the village. 

The scratch of Steve’s pencil told Bucky that Steve would soon have her image in his sketch pad. 

“Take a gander at the looker,” Bucky broke the silence. “You figure she’s rationed?”

“Knowing our luck, yes.” Steve looked up as he finished the sketch. “Oh, no!” He began moving as Bucky watched. Both seeing the tall, blonde man who appeared behind the beauty grabbing her and her struggles to be free. Steve was going to get into trouble. He couldn’t help but nose into other people’s problems. Of course, going over meant a better look at the doll.

“Well, shit. You know he’s probably her old man.” Bucky tossed out as he caught up and they ran over to the pair. He noticed the unusual clothing and sword as he pulled the guy away from the beauty, knowing Steve would put her behind himself as they faced her attacker.

“Conas is féidir liom teagmháil a dhéanamh liom!” (How dare you touch me!) The man er, elf maybe, snarled at Bucky. The male was pretty enough to be a girl. If the very large, jewelled codpiece really held a penis, Bucky would be surprised.

“Sir, I would ask that you not grab ladies. It’s rude and illegal.” Steve began.

“I will do as I like, Áilleacht Dorcha (Dark Beauty) is mine. Return her to me, or I will turn you into hares for my hounds to eat.” Steve and Bucky shared a glance, arrogance was not in short supply with this guy.

“I am not yours, you dung eater.” Her throaty voice causing Steve to bite his lower lip and Bucky to almost moan. “Three times you ask for my hand, three times I said no.” 

Bucky was a bit impressed with the dung eater as he tried to push around Steve to get to the woman. Stevie held firm though and pushed the man away.

“Sir, I don’t think she wants you to be here. Why don’t you head home and calm down.” Always the voice of reason, Bucky snorted.

_Grab his arm with your metal one!_ Bucky heard the doll’s voice in his head and looked at her before complying with her order. 

The man screamed and pulled his arm to his chest as Bucky had released him at his scream. 

__“Cold iron with the steel of your arm causes Fey pain.” The doll spoke and Bucky began to process every story his mom told him the myths of Ireland. “Run now, and I will not have him hit you, vile frog.”_ _

__The man’s large blue eyes widened in terror as he vanished. One moment there and the next poof, gone._ _

__“Thank you for the rescue. Allow me to now help you, as I think those men are here for you.” She pointed to a small group of four men in black suits who were looking around at people, not the scenery._ _

__Steve and Bucky prepared to fight. “Ma’am, you might want to stay behind us.”_ _

__“Why, as you are hidden from their sight. We have been hidden since the dung licker appeared. Apparently, however, you are immune to such spells.” Both super soldiers turned and looked at her. Gone were the simple modern clothes, in their place was a long shimmering gown of white. The fabric was translucent and hide nothing from their sight. Steve and Bucky blushed and looked away from her perfectly toned body._ _

__“Spells?” “Huh?” Steve and Bucky weren’t at their best as they tried to comprehend the beauty’s words while not looking at her almost bare flesh._ _

__“If you wish to collect your bits and bobs, I can walk with you to keep you hidden from them. I am sorry I am afraid your tour of Éireann is over.”_ _

Notes:  
You figure she’s rationed? = dating, married, off the market (40s slang)


	3. A Long Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve, Bucky and you head to your home after taking care of some courier issues.

Steve and Bucky started to walk over to their things with the now normally clothed woman.

“I am Steve Rogers and this is James Barnes,” Steve told you.

“I was Áilleacht Dorcha, now I am (Y/fullname/N),” you replied calmly. “This cannot be all you have to wander the isle, do you not have anything on one of the metal monsters?” You asked as you point to the two backpacks resting against the rock fence.

“No, ma’am, we knew this was just an afternoon trip so we left our rucksacks at the inn.” Steve sighed. “I wonder if they are watching over them to see if we come back.” Steve thought of his sketchbooks, darn it. He has a lot of Irish pictures he drew and other, more personal memories in them.

“If you are wanting them back, I can arrange for them to be brought to my home safely. No one will see my courier,” you smile mysteriously.

“That would be great,” Bucky said cautiously, “but we don’t want anyone to get hurt on account of our stuff.” He too was thinking of Steve’s sketchpads. Clothes could be replaced, Steve’s drawings were precious to them both.

You laugh and hold your sides. “You are sweet, but truly no one will be seen.” You walk to the rock wall and take a seat. Reaching into your pockets, you feel around for a bit before smiling widely. “I knew I had put one in before I left.” And from your pocket, you draw out a thick copper disc. “Robin Goodfellow, I ask you attend me.” Your eyes change to a fog and your words change to a strange chant. You repeat the phrase three times, before setting the disc on the ground. “mar sin bíonn sé” (so mote it be.)

Steve and Bucky exchanged weirded out looks as your eyes return to their brilliant (green). Both look at you questioningly as they gather their items dropped in your rescue. You give them a knowing smile.

Moments later, a shuffling noise is heard and before you is a small two-foot man, er creature, with long fingers, a bulbous nose and wide eyes that only look at the metal on the ground.

“Áilleacht Dorcha, (Dark Beauty)” the little man said as he bowed to you.

“Robin Goodfellow, well met and good day to you,” you say as you rise and curtsey to the small Fey. 

“You need a task completed,” ‘Robin’ asks.

“I do,” you smile and point to Steve and Bucky. “Their belongings are at an inn in the village. I ask that you retrieve them and bring them to my home in the valley. I will pay you three more boinn (coin).”

“Three boinn (coins) for a simple retrieval,” ‘Robin’ shook his head. “I smell a large rat.”

“Well, I do need to you be unseen by humans while you do it. It seems my friends have attracted unwanted attention.” You smile at the soldiers. “I wish them not to be found.”

“The thick Americans, aye, I have seen them. They carry cold steel on their person. No Fey will trifle with them.” The little man laughed. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Áilleacht Dorcha. I get paid to play tricks on humans.” The man picked up the disc and tucked it in his small black jacket. He turned, walking away and slowly fading from all sight.

“Done and done,” you say as you stand. “We are best for home before he arrives before us and decides to play some mischief on me.”

“Quinn, Robin will be okay, right?” Steve asks concerned.

“His name not be Robin,” you sigh. “It’s a general name, like John Smith. It’s rude to ask a Fey their true name. I cast the spell so that any interested Fey would hear me and answer my request.” You watch as the blonde still stares after the little man. “Yes, he will be fine. He is probably older than the buildings in the village. He will not directly prank those that carry cold steel.”

Bucky lays his right hand on Steve’s shoulder. “She knows what he is capable of. We are going to have trust her if we want to get out of this without a fight at a major tourist attraction.” Steve looks at Bucky with a double take. 

“Bucky?” Steve asks with humour in his deep voice. “Are you telling me to trust someone?” 

“Shut it, punk,” Bucky snarls.

“Make me, jerk,” Steve responds back.

“Gentlemen, if you are quite ready,” you stand and begin walking towards the hills away from the tourist buses. Along the lane, you turn away from the village and begin making your way beside the lane, not stepping on the asphalt as you lead them far from men. Soon you see the dip between two of the mountains and turn from the paved road to walk along a dirt path.

“Ma’am,” Steve questions. “Are you tired, we have been walking for five miles.”

“Thank you no, I require no rest,” you reply as you stop, “Do you require a rest?”

Steve and Bucky look at you and then each other and shake their heads. 

“No, ma’am, we are alright, just concerned for you,” Bucky answers gallantly.

“Come then, we are almost there. Another half hour and we should be at the house, we are already on my land.” You smile and lead them deeper into the wilds of Ireland.

“You walked this to bring the bus driver a basket?” Bucky’s voice holding a large amount of concern.

You laugh, “I travelled another way, one that you, my rescuers cannot travel.” 

“A spell?” questions Steve.

“Of a sort,” you respond. “I can fold land from one point to another and step over to the new point. I cannot take another with me when I do it and I can only do this on land I have already walked on. So I cannot travel to the new world that way.”

Steve and Bucky chuckle over the new world comment. Bucky waggles his eyebrows at Steve and Steve chews on his lower lip.

“Is there another way you can travel, magically that is?” Bucky asks curiously.

“Yes, but it would take me to close to the land of the Fey and I have no desire to do that.” You smile back at them. “So I have to take a boat or get inside a metal bird.”

“A plane, they are called planes,” Bucky smiles as he supplies the word.

“Planes…hmmm, I haven’t begun to research them yet. I have only just finished healing the islands around here, so my travels have only taken me to Sasana, An Bhreatain Bheag, and Pictland. Or as you would call them, England, Wales and Scotland.”

“You can travel the British Isles with your fold magic?” Steve's voice held a combination of fascination and concern. “Isn’t that dangerous? What if you appear in front of a bus or car or inside a wall, you could be killed?”

“Ah, when I fold I can see what is before me and I always look for places where people aren’t.” You shrug your shoulders slightly. “I never travel blind. My parents taught me better than that.” 

As a Red Hart stag bursts from the trees and runs across the dirt path into more trees, Bucky and Steve both drop their bags and fall into battle stances. 

Your laugh sends shivers of pleasure through their bodies, “There are no predators on the island that wear four feet.” Stopping you turn and watch as they pick up their backpacks, both a little embarrassed at the false alarm.

“Truly, no wolves, poisonous snakes nor wild cats live here anymore.” You sigh. “Oh, you should have seen the glory that was the Irish Grey Wolf. They were a wonder to behold.”

“They extinct?” Bucky asked as the three of you continued over a small hill.

“Yes, long ago,” you shake your head. “They were dangerous, of course. However, they were magnificent. Is it any wonder our wolfhound is the size they are and they are still small when compared to our lost wolves.”

As you crest the hill, you see the valley before you and your cottage nestled in.

“Be welcome, Bucky and Steve,” you wave to your home, “for here no mortal can enter without my knowing of it.”

Notes:  
I use Google translator. I am aware that the Gaelic is modern; however, I cannot find a translator for Old Gaelic.  
Any mistakes are mine.


	4. Faces from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What haunts the fair reader?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://yuorphoto.com/beautiful-flower-house/houses-with-flowers-also-house-hd-sand-gallery-flower-images/ is the image of a flower covered cottage.
> 
> Tír na nÓg = Home of the Tuatha or land of the gods

The valley spread out before the two city boys and they were silent in their awe. A rich garden of veg and herbs nestled next to a cottage covered by all manner of flowers. A small greenhouse rested behind the cottage a stark contrast to the climbing flowers threading their way over walls and rooftops of the home. Blossoms of every variety covered the ground around the cottage and garden. The path of mossy stones split the gardens allowing entry. A group of rabbits were under a large oak tree across the lane from the cottage and more Red Harts were near the stream just beyond the tree. It was idyllic and magical.

The silence was broken by a large cacophony of barking as two large dogs raced out of the house towards your trio.

“Conn, Finn, down…these men are our guests.” You gesture towards the soldiers. “Steve, Bucky, may I present Connabaugh and Finnabaugh. Finn, Conn, welcome them.” The dogs were Irish wolfhounds, large ones. Their brownish grey fur was soft as they received pets from Steve and Bucky. Both dogs yipping as they danced around the humans. Tongues lapping at hands to get more pets. Steve and Bucky laughed at the comedy of the canines, causing you to smile. Good, they are relaxing. These two need it more than most.

“Come, Robin will be here soon. Conn, Finn, patrol!” You wave the dogs off to run around the edges of your land, knowing any mortal or immortal will be little match for your magical enhanced hounds. “Gentlemen, would you like some tea?” Asking as you head down the hill, you don’t look back to see them follow you as you know they will.

“Your home is beautiful,” the blonde says as he walks on your left while the brunette takes your right. “Like a fairy tale come to life,” his voice is soft, romantic as he speaks.

“Since my home before my kidnapping is now a historical site and I have no way of getting it back, I made a home here not far from the cliffs I once claimed.” Your (green) eyes are unfocused as you remember your home on the cliffs. Standing on the stone tower as waves crashed into the earth, the sound near deafening as water rained down on your sumptuous gardens. “The sea claimed my tower long ago.”

“You lived on the cliffs back there?” Bucky asked.

“Once, long ago, I was the druid of the west. I guarded against the monsters of the sea, air, and earth protecting the people and land. Now I am the only druid, and others guard the people and lands.”

“You mean like the Avengers?” Steve asked cautiously, fearing you had recognized them.

“Whom?” you shake your head, “No, there is now a mystical order that protects the planet. My warlock founded it long ago. My warrior founded another order as well, but it has fallen into legend. Only a few remain in the world. None of their descendants still live in Ireland.” You reach your front door and open it for them, “Welcome to my home, no harm will I allow to befall my guests.”

They both motion for you to enter before them, causing you to laugh. “A chivalry. You know the only reason a warrior let the lady pass through a door first was so the assassin would wound or kill her and the warrior could then kill the assassin.” You laugh as the fire lights slowly in the hearths throughout the house. The entry is large with the parlour to the left and a music room to the right. At the end of the entry are the west hall leading to the guestrooms, the kitchen straight through the double doors and the east hall leading to your bedroom. “The guestrooms are through the west hall and each has its own bath. You should have all you require as soon as Robin arrives with your bags.” Turning from the hall, you go to the kitchen to begin preparing the tea.

Sometime later, as you set the tea up in the front parlour you feel the tap of magic as Robin asks for entry. Setting down the tray of sandwiches, you go to the kitchen and open the lower half of the cottage door. 

“Greetings, Robin.” You smile as the little man drops two military bags on your rock floor.

“Greetings, Áilleacht Dorcha,” his smile is infectious as he jumps onto your stone countertop. “The steel bearing men are very confused. They had cameras in the room and poof, the items vanished. They are sure it’s a technical issue.” He grabs his stomach as he is helpless in his laugh. You join him as tears roll down his face.

“Thank you for the laugh, Robin.” You reach into your apron and pull out the 3 boinn. “And payment as promised. Thank you for the courier service, I appreciate it as does the gentlemen.”

“Oh, that was easy, my lady.” Robin hopped from the counter and left through the open lower door. “I am off, be well.”

“Be well, Robin.” You close the lower door and look at the two bags. You have absolutely no idea how one would carry them. Ah, best to leave it to the men. You pick up the kettle, putting in a cosy and start back for the parlour almost running over a slightly damp brunette. “Oh, pardon me.”

“I am sorry,” Bucky holds you in his arms and both of you feel heat coming from where your bodies meet.

Reluctantly you pull away from him and see Steve behind him. “Tea is in the parlour and Robin has delivered your bags. They are in the kitchen. He says there were cameras in the room and no one saw anything, a technical fault is being blamed.”

“We heard noises and headed that way. I am glad we found you, this place is larger than it seems from the outside.” Steve smiled as you led the way to the parlour.

“The flowers disguise the size of the cottage as well as supply ingredients for potions. When I first created the cottage, I had a few unwelcome visitors who thought to steal from me.” You smile up at them as you pour tea into three cups that aren’t delicate china. They are white stoneware, and solid so that neither has to worry about breaking your glassware.

“You built this?” Bucky asks as Steve asks at the same time, “They didn’t hurt you did they?”

“No, they didn’t harm me. I am sure after what I did to them, they will never steal again. Fear not, I didn’t harm them. I just scared them. And yes, I created this. I asked the earth for the stones for the walls, floors, hearths, as well as the rich soil for the plants. I shaped the stone and then I had men from the village install plumbing, wiring, windows and modern devices. They believed the cottage had always been here and they were dragging it into the modern era. It is from them I learned modern Gaelic and your English.”

Your parlour had slightly off-white walls, which faded as the true decoration of the room was the large windows that looked into your vale. Climbing roses framed the windows making the need for pictures in the room unnecessary. Over your parlour fireplace, a mantel covered with glass balls, candles and topiaries of coloured glass filled the wall the parlour shared with the entry. A calm relaxing room that helped keep your mind from wandering.

You had a civilised tea and smiled as they helped you clear the dishes. Their mothers had taught them well. After they took their bags to their rooms, you excused yourself to your own room.

In your bedroom, you sat on the soft divan at the foot of your large bed. You sat staring at the painting over your hearth. Two men dressed as they did when you first met them, warlock and warrior staring back at you. Two men who look almost identical as the two currently resting in your home. Descendants of your men obviously, whose family had moved to the new world. The pain of loss tore your heart out as if it was fresh. Tears streamed down your face to your lap. They died long ago in this realm, but to you, it was only a few years. Five years since your return to this realm, and still you missed them as if they were your arms or legs. Vital parts were stolen from you, never to be returned and now you met their children’s children’s children. They should have been your children. You should have been mother to their offspring.

You remember the last time you had spoken to them through the mirror. Oh, your warlock was cunning. He had tapped some power to give him and the warrior extended life. For three hundred years, they tried to steal you back home. But they couldn’t breach the Fey Realm. At the end of the third day, you told them to marry, have children and be happy. No more attempts to free you for it was hopeless. They were to enjoy their lives and go the Tír na nÓg when they passed from this world. It had been a painful conversation, but you could see the strain the magic was taking on their souls. You had loved them too much to see their legacies fade into nothing. The warlock had married a girl of some magic gift and had four sons; while, the warrior married a pretty girl who gave him a daughter before she died. The warrior married again and had ten sons and four daughters. His eldest daughter married the eldest of the warlock’s sons and from there you had lost track of their lines.

The Vikings and Romans had come and killed all of the Druids. Then the Christians came and you lost all hope. Your people were subjugated, imprisoned, tortured and trampled until the wild power of Ireland was almost lost. On your last two days, you watched as the Irish rose and took back their land and power. Even in the Fey Realm, you could feel the shockwave of power, and you smiled knowing you would fall to dust when you touched your home, but it would be a home of free Irish. Two thousand years of ageing would catch you and then you would join your loves forever.

However, Fate it seems had other plans for you.Goddess Danu came to you. She of greatest love gave you a goblet and told you there would be a need for you to live after your time as a captive had ended. You would live again and forever. She told you secrets lost to men and how you would find the four treasures and save the whole world, not just one island.

The locations of the sword of Núadu, the cauldron of plenty; the spear of Lug, and finally the true location of the Stone of Fál or stone of destiny were revealed to you. And you would know when they would be needed. So death would not be taking you to your lovers. No, you would find your true loves after you were freed. So the goddess promised and so you took her words to heart and prayed to the Tuatha na Danann.  


And now you were here with men who bore the faces of your loves.

Standing and wiping your face, you walk to your bath and run cool water to splash on your tear-streaked face. You had to stop woolgathering and start on dinner. Somehow you knew that they would eat more than a starving warrior. The thought made you smile as you made your way to the kitchen.


	5. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

As you prepared the feast that was to be dinner, your mind wandered to other meals shared with other men. Your warlock had loved your roast deer while your warrior had adored beef stew. A gentle smile was on your lips as you realized you heard a knocking, on your front door. Knowing that it could only be one person you continue to set the table for four people. 

Steve and Bucky appeared at the archway of the dining room. “Someone is knocking on the front door. Would you like me to answer it?” Steve asks as Bucky leans on the wall, watching you with eyes that are the colour of morning fog and twice as dangerous.

You smile brightly at his kindness. “Yes thank you, I know who it is. Tell him to wash up as dinner is ready.” Winking at him, you watch the red creep over his face. Laughing you go to the kitchen to bring the dishes to the table.

Bucky follows you to the kitchen, soon you had him carrying dishes with you to the table.

“Why four places, doll?” He asks as he set down a tureen of ham soup.

“The man at the door will be joining us as he will have questions about this afternoons incident.” You laugh as you knew he will want to get on with his business and be on his way. He wasn’t one to linger.

“Damn right I do!” The tall thin man was dressed in a blue outfit of Eastern origin with a large red cloak over his shoulders. The cloak was waving at the Druidess with one of its edges.

“Steven, you always arrive right on time.” You set down the bowl with hot homemade rolls before you straighten and wave to the cloak.

“Apparently not or there wouldn’t be a large rip in the fabric of reality not far from here,” Steven growled in his gruff and sexy accent.

“Hmm, Dr Steven Strange may I present Steve Rodgers and James Barnes. They helped me deal with a certain Fey Prince.” You smile tightly at Steven and walk back into the kitchen. Steve and Bucky nod to Steven as he nodded back to them.

“Did he create the tear?” Steven lifts a hand to his forehead as he raised his voice to be heard as you wandered off.

“When he ran away,” you answer as you sway back into the room with a roast on a platter. “Now wash up, and we will eat.”

Steven looks at your face taking note of the look in your (green) eyes. He knew there would be no budging you until he complied. Shrugging he headed to the powder room. Steve ducked down to his room to use the bathroom there to wash his hands. Bucky just smiled as he claimed the seat to your right. 

“I washed up before when I smelled what you were making.” His long dark hair brushed over his collar catching in a button of his pressed shirt. He tugged at it with a jerk of his head unsuccessfully.  


You reach up and still his hands. “Let me help.” You stand and lean over him to unwrap his caught hair. As you stroke his soft hair to settle the once rogue strands, you inhale his very male scent. Bucky lifts his non-metal arm and wrapped it around your waist and pulled you against his chest.

Looking up, you met those magical eyes with yours. Breathing heavily your lips part as you start to say something. Oddly you cannot remember what you were going to say. Your only thoughts are of this man and how you want to touch more than just his silky hair.

Bucky smiles and lowers his perfect lips to yours. A more gentle caress on your lips you had never had. He lifts his other arm and runs his hand through your (auburn) tresses. 

Suddenly he stops and pulls his arm away before setting you down on the floor. Holding up his metal arm he looks at you questions bouncing around his expressive grey eyes. 

“What the heck is that?” Bucky’s voice is a bit on the edge as he looks at the vine-twining over his metal arm.

Steve hurridly rounds the corner nearly knocking Steven over as he hears the panic in Bucky’s voice.

“Roses, ivy and Verbena.” Dr Steven Strange answers with a raised brow at you. You shrug a shoulder at him.

“How did they…?” Bucky asks awkwardly. “We were…”

“Kissing,” you supply happily. “I am a Druid and of the Earth. Things like that happen when I am around.”

Steven starts to say something but the look in your eye stops him.

Steve Rodgers sits on your left and throws a glare at Bucky. Bucky smiles and shrugs at his best friend.

“It should,” you reach up and unwind the flowers from his arm taking care the thorns don’t catch in the fabric or metal plates. “…slide off with no problem.” Taking the flowers you go back to your kitchen setting them in a basket. Washing your hands at the sink, you sigh. Neither Steve nor Bucky knew that they were handfasting flowers. Steven did though and he was curious. The piper’s bill would come due soon. Hopefully, she could talk in private with the master of mysticism without secrets being told Steve and Bucky.

You return to the table and sit down. “Please offer a moment of silence to those not with us.” You lower your head and think of your Druid family, your blood family, and your loves who were not yours to keep.

The moment passes and your raise your head. Turning to Steve, you smile. “Would you cut the roast, please?” Turning to Bucky, you hand him a plate of baked potatoes. “Pass these to Steven if you would please.”

“Quinn where is the young lady who I left with you?” Steven asks like a disturbed teacher.

“She is running an errand for me.” You smile at him and wave your hand dismissively.

“Claire is supposed to be helping you adjust not running around the planet.” Steven closed his eyes and the ring on his right hand glowed. “Why is she in Siberia?”

“Claire is delightful and very helpful. She should be back in a week or so as she had several stops to make.” You chuckle as Steve hands you a slice of roast beef.

“What are you up to?” The doctor has steepled his fingers as he looks at you. If you were of weaker fibre you would crumble under his gaze.

“Claiming the position of High Druid.” You pick a roll out of the basket and hand it to Bucky. “Am I not the last on this world?”

“You are.” Steven looks at you with concern. “You haven’t answered what Claire is doing.”

“She is laying beacons. Beacons that will respond during the ritual. I will then be able to travel the globe without having to ever have been in a location. The whole Earth will know me and I will know it.” You take a bit of beef, chewing slowly. You should have known Strange wasn’t going to let you off the hook as he keeps his silence. You swallow the meat which while tender and juicy feels dry in your throat. “I will be able to heal the Earth faster.”

“Healing the Earth almost killed you!” Steven roars as he throws down his napkin and stands to begin what you think of as lecture mode.

“You almost died, Quinn?” Steve asks softly. His large hand covering yours in concern. Bucky’s hand mirrors Steve’s. The worry written on their faces makes your stomach ache.

“It was not on purpose. I gave too much power when I first healed Éireann.” You feel the warmth of a blush cover your cheeks.

“If we hadn’t felt the massive wave of power, she would have.” Dr Steven Strange snarls at you. The hands holding yours tighten.

“I would not. I am immortal and cannot die. I would have been ill for a bit but I would have regained my power.” You shake your head at Steven as you reluctantly slide your hands from the men who you never want to let go. “You are lucky I didn’t rip you apart with a Firethorn vine when you approached me so suddenly.”

“Please, you couldn’t raise your head off the ground. I doubt you could have raised a killer vine.” He paced as he dismissed your comment with a most disrespectful tone.

So you lean back in your chair and wave a hand at Steven. He vanishes into the thin air. Moments later there is a knocking at the front door.

“Want me to let him in?” Steve asks as he starts to stand. You nod not trusting your voice.

“Kicked him out?” Bucky asked cautiously.

“He was rude.” Your (green) eyes flash with fury.

“I was. I apologize.” Steven half bowed. You motion for him to sit. “When will the ritual be ready?”

“A week after Claire places the last beacon.” You nibble on an asparagus stalk. “I have all the ingredients. I don’t have another druid and I won’t until I can travel and find someone with the power. If they haven’t already been taken in by your order.” Pointing your fork at Steven, your eyes narrow with accusation.

He raises his arms in surrender. “Don’t blame me. The order does want you as the Sorceress Supreme though. The offer is still open.”

You snort. “Thank you, no.” You take the plate of potatoes from Steve. “Your order worries about the threats from the Universe. Druids only worry about this planet.”

Steven shrugs. “It was worth a try.” He takes a bite of your roast and smiles. “Seriously, the Fey rips a hole in reality and leaves us to clean it up.”

“I closed what I could during the walk to here.” Sighing, you set aside your fork. “He has never been so bold. Attempting to take me around others was odd. He usually relies on stealth.”

“Something caused him to change tactics?” Steven looked at the other two men at the table and back at you. His cursed brow arched knowingly. “I cannot imagine what made him threatened.” His voice was steady and full of sarcasm.

“You think you are funny,” You wrinkle your nose at him.

“I am funny. My staff laughed at my jokes all the time.” Steven crossed his arms over his chest.

“I would ask the obvious, but I will refrain.” Lowering one eyelid you wink at the wizard. “Back to the pain in my keister. He has been lurking for the past year since he learned I did not die. He cannot enter my land. I have warded it against him.” Biting into a roll, you look at Steven.

“He could hire someone to get you….except you thought of that and the dogs would rip them to pieces.” Steven tapped his goateed chin. “Have you thought that he might try to use the human legal system?”

“The police carry enough metal that he has no magic that can affect them.” You shake your head. “Also he is too vain to change his appearance so that he may appear in a court of law.”

“You may have to kill him.” Steven lowered his head and rubbed at the centre of his forehead. “Worst case scenario.” 

“If I kill him, I will need a cold iron or cold steel weapon. The dagger I carry is bogwood, enchanted but still wood. It will not hurt him.” You run your hand over the dagger tattoo on your inner wrist. The magic keeps it hidden there until you have need of it.

“Can you carry a cold steel dagger?” Steven’s voice was deep with concern.

“Once I am High Druid, yes. Until then, no.” Your long (auburn) hair in its braid slaps at the back of your chair as you shake your head.

“The ritual is in two weeks, we can protect her until then.” Steve flashes you a smile as he speaks to Steven.

Bucky smiled a frightening grin that was full of promises of death, blood and pain. “If the Fairy Prince shows up, he will be very sorry.”

“There problem solved.” Steven tucks into his dinner as do the others as they begin to eat in earnest. Steve and Bucky clean their plates as well as the platters. No leftovers with them around you think.  
Steven talks low with Steve as Bucky helps you with the dishes. You could magically ease drop, but decide that it’s a “man” conversation and leave them to it. Never mind you could kill all three men before they could react, not that you would. You don’t really need protecting, you hate killing.

Shaking your head you flick bubbles at Bucky. He smiles wickedly and twists up the dish towel before snapping at your bum. You shriek with laughter and surprise causing Steve to whip his head around to look at the two of you. He was on full alert which struck you as funny. Holding your stomach, you slide down the sink to the rug laughing helplessly. You know it’s the stress helpless to stop the laughter.

Steve shares a look with Bucky as Steven leaves via a magical portal. If you haven’t been wiping tears of laughter from your cheeks you would have seen it. Bucky nods to Steve and continues drying off the dishes you already washed. Steve kneels down beside you.

“I think she’s broke.” Steve looks from you to Bucky and back.

“Cracked, maybe,” Bucky says wryly.

Steve smiles as he lifts you in a bridal carry. “I will take her out to the parlour. She should rest while we clean.”

“I was cleaning, punk,” Bucky smirked.

“Be back soon, jerk,” Steve responded.


	6. Legend of the Red Stag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A magical creature is injured and the reader must get to them quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over a thousand people have looked at this, Thank You!

The next two days passed in an idyllic haze. You milk your cow, then use an old pasteurizer and finally churn the butter. All the while, you cook three amazing meals for Steve and Bucky each day. Steve makes a call to someone named Shuri whom he tells about the changes in their plans. Tending your gardens in between cooking and tending your animals. Evenings are spent playing music so that they will sing, reading, watching the telly and talking about the changes. You spend time learning about them and they about you. Bucky touches you constantly, even kissing you again when he can get you to stand still. Steve often touches you as well, often throwing his arm over your shoulders as you sit and watch the telly. 

On the third day, as you three settle into lunch, you lurch over in pain. Blinding white pain courses through your skull multiplied by a million. Your entire world is filled with sharp corrosive agony. Slowly you magically dull the pain; your breathing is laboured and shallow. Eventually, you gain enough control of the pain to open your eyes. You are sitting on your kitchen floor with Bucky behind you holding you, and Steve is shining a light into your eyes, concern fills their beautiful eyes.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Steve asks as you try to push the small flashlight away from your eyes. Bucky’s hand covers yours and he lowers your hand so Steve can continue his examination.

“The Red Stag has been attacked. He is a magical creature and I felt his pain. I must go to him. Either to heal him or find the next Red Stag.” You lay your hand on Steve’s and stand almost pressing your face and chest into his very wide and muscular chest. Shaking such thoughts from your head you go into your small greenhouse off the kitchen you grab a satchel full of herbs and potions. Grabbing your cloak from its hook, you open the door turning to tell the men that you will be back soon only to find them right behind you, backpacks over their shoulders.

“I need to go.” You appreciate their concern but you have to hurry.

“Not without us you aren’t,” Bucky growls. “This could be a trap. So if you are leaving your land, we are going with you.”

“Bollocks, I cannot fold space to get there if you are with me…” Your arguments are interrupted and overruled.

“Don’t care, you need to get there with us. Otherwise, you’re not going.” Steve used what Bucky called his Captain America voice™ and you understood what he meant about it being commanding. You wanted to obey him, but you have a duty and you cannot forsake it. How to get the three of you there quickly… and the answer came so easily.

“Fine, I hope neither of you gets airsick.” You smile sweetly at them as you head out to the pasture behind your farmstead.

“Airsick?” Bucky asked confusion filling his deep voice.

“We need some rope as well.” You muse, heading to one of your vines. Pulling slightly, you fill it with power so that it grows into two very long complete circles. One for Steve who scratches his blonde hair, curiosity fills his bright cobalt eyes, and one for Bucky, confusion on his beautiful face and in his blue-grey eyes.

“You might want to stay by the fence.” You toss the comment over your shoulder as you continue to the middle of the field and begin drawing power from the earth. You cast a simple spell so that you three are invisible to others, but not to one another. It wouldn’t keep the Fey from seeing you, but you really didn’t need to hide from most of them. When you have the right amount of power, you unleash it changing your form. A burst of green light flares out as you begin to transform. As the light dims and fades, you stretch out your limbs.

Steve and Bucky are staring at you with their mouths hanging open. Moments pass and you turn your massive head to look at them as you stretch out your unwieldy leather wings. You prefer changing your arms into wings for more control, but you need front legs so that the men can use them as a step to climb on your back. So you grew wings from your back, a process which takes a bit longer than just changing your arms. Golden scales cover your body and you can see the world as a dragon does, infrared and ultraviolet spectrums as well as enhanced eyesight allowing you to spot a being miles away useful when flying. Your nose begins to pick up scents that your human nose never would be able to smell. You can taste magic on your tongue, the magic of your home and the Earth each have their own flavour. Your senses all expanded save for touch, your skin under the scales has nerves but there were none in the scales so that dragons didn’t feel the pain of blows on them. Dragons were born fighters, not one creature in the whole history of the Earth was as perfect for combat as they were.

“Umh, Doll you are a dragon!” Bucky’s normally husky voice cracked high over the word dragon. Steve was still staring and processing your change.

“We have no time, loop the vines over my head and climb on.” You could feel the pain of the Red Stag, buried in your mind. You know that it would take over again if you were not careful. Also, you had to remember that you were a human lest you be trapped as a dragon forever. Greater druids than you had made that mistake. Though remembering one of the more horrible of the male druids race away as a rabbit always made you smile. Apparently, you smiled as a dragon and dragons never had friendly smiles mostly due to the very big sharp teeth which caused Steve to take a step back from you. You could smell the quick pungent smell of fear from him. The pinch of your heart was sharp and hurt more than the pain of the Red Stag.

“Hurry up, Punk!” Bucky called out to Steve as he looped the circle of vines over your head and began to climb up you to settle between two spine ridges. You turned and bowed your head to Bucky in thanks. He smiled at you as if he understood.

“Sorry, it’s not every day a woman turns into a dragon. I really have to draw you like this.” He approached you and you no longer smelled fear from him, only wonder and curiosity. He threw his vines over your head and you lifted your long neck up to make the vines fall to the base of your neck so that they would have something to hold onto. Steve settled into a grove as Bucky did. Both grabbed their vines, Steve laughing as Bucky was trapped between Steve’s vines as well.

“I will change another time for you to draw but for now loop the vines behind your backs and hold on to the sides of the loop or the ridge in front of you.” You let them get settled and then snorted as you made sure they would be safe. “I am going to fly low, but fast. Also, the takeoff will be a bit uncomfortable. Hold on!” You lower your bulk over your four legs and spread your colossal wings. As you bring your wings down you push off with your legs bursting from the ground into the sky. You level off quickly and turn to check on the men. Their smiles seem to take up most of the faces as they laugh and enjoy the ride. 

Flying is a concept that most human understand from a mechanical view. The actual process is more difficult to master. Years are spent with a master druid learning the basics of bird flight and then the more advanced flight of dragons, pegasi and griffons. You pick up speed staying low over the mountains. The last thing you want is to hit a plane as it would only annoy you but kill everyone on board. Dragons are immune to non-magical damage.

North you fly, the miles passing quickly below you. Bucky and Steve are watching the ground pass, commenting on castles, villages, and a couple landmarks that are hard to miss. You turn knowing the Stag is close. Glenveagh National Park is below you, as you are now in Northern Ireland. Slowly you begin to land having pinpointed the Red Stag.  
“Hold on, I am going to land.” You call over your shoulder spines to the soldiers who are no longer tourists, but alert for an ambush. “I smell nothing out of the ordinary nor do I see anything for miles.”  
“He could appear like last time and come behind you.” Steve pointed out as he checked the steel knife in a holster behind his back and the guns under his arms. Bucky had a gun behind his back as well. You circle the grove and fly over it, backwinging to slow your descent. As your back legs touch the ground, you cushion the rest of the weight of your massive form slowly bringing your front legs to the ground so that Steve and Bucky feel little of the landing.

You tuck your wings over your back as they dismount. Releasing the power you borrowed you glow green and change into yourself. Ahhh, fingers and no claws are always delights. You send thanks to the gods and goddesses for the loan.

The Red Stag rests less than a few meters from you. Magnificent red hide with golden antlers atop his regal head. His breathing is harsh and blood pours out of his side. Your expression is solemn as you lay your hands on the hideous gash. “This was on purpose. A magical being attacked the Stag.”

Steve and Bucky stand on either side of you watching the area around you. You pour magic into the wound to heal it, pulling a potion from your satchel you quickly pour it down the Stag’s throat.   
You can hear his whisper thoughts touching your mind. He is trying to warn you, trying to scream at the danger. You try to calm him and tell him of the brave soldiers guarding you both. You stroke his soft fur, murmuring words of ancient Gaelic. Even with the potion and your healing of the Stag takes over an hour. Slowly he stands resting his head on your shoulder as he gets his legs under him. Standing at his full height of seven feet, he bows his head to you three. Then as he walks away he begins to fade, going to the next location for another to hope to see him.

“Wow!” Steve’s blue eyes are huge as he watches the Stag walk. You know the beauty of nature, but the Stag always leaves one breathless at its beauty.

“Double wow!” Echoes Bucky, smiling at Steve as the Stag vanishes. “So we are done here? So we can go home?” Your heart flutters as Bucky calls your cottage home.

“No, I must rest. I have used a great deal of magic today and need to replenish it. I cannot borrow the magic from the Earth again as the emergency has passed.” You look around. “Minalaban is not far from here. There are several hotels there.”

An hour later, you stand in the village of Churchill, once known as Minalaban. After checking into a hotel, which was more complicated by the men insisting on sharing a room with you. Steve snarled in your ear about the dangers as Bucky checked your little group in. The girl behind the counter flirted with Bucky and told him about a local restaurant that was divine. Sighing at him as she said the word divine. Bucky just smiled and thanked her while the thought of her being a hedgehog for a couple months flashed through your mind. Steve glared at you as he kept his arm over your shoulder.

“Behave,” he whispered harshly in your ear. He is being unfair and uses the Captain America voice™.

You shrug and lean against him. Smelling his scent with your nose pressed against his chest each time he talks in your ear is heavenly. 

After dropping your stuff off in the room, you need to eat. The restaurant the girl recommended is truly divine. Maybe you were harsh about turning her into a hedgehog. Hmmm, nope. She was flirting with Bucky and she is lucky that you didn’t turn her into a tree or magpie.

“So the Red Stag is a magical creature?” Bucky asks as he eats his dinner.

“There are three magical Stags that exist while there is a ton of lore about others. There is the White Stage that leads one on a quest or adventure. The Black Stag that foretells of death, usually on a large scale. The Red Stage leads one to true love. If one sees him and follows, they are lead to their true love. The Stag bows to the lovers and they love until the end of time. Both my….” You stop as you almost tell them of your long lost warrior and warlock. They knew you called the men, your warrior and your warlock, but you hadn’t told them of your relationship. “..parents and grandparents found one another due to the Stag. I knew several people who followed the Stag and found their missing parts.”

“Does that mean you are our true love?” Bucky asked quietly. Your (Y/EC) dart up to lock with his stormy grey eyes.


End file.
